


Baby Hale

by seekeronthepath



Series: Baby Hale [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alpha Mate Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Baby Werewolves, Kid Fic, M/M, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, because men can have babies without physically having babies, divergent from the end of season 2, eventually, kind of, not mpreg, really not that canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-09 07:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3241757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekeronthepath/pseuds/seekeronthepath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single (werewolf) mother looking for a new family for her (werewolf) daughter comes to Beacon Hills and begs Derek to take her in. How will the pack change to accommodate their newest (and tiniest) member?</p><p> </p><p>Please note: I enjoy fanfic of Teen Wolf much more than I enjoy actual Teen Wolf, and my writing reflects this. This is not the show. It's not really like the show. I am shamelessly stealing world-building and characters from the show in order to write Hale pack fluff. I'll try not to be too out of character, but it's not a major priority for me. Sorry if this isn't what you're looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Omega Came Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An omega turns up at the Hale house, and she's looking for a pack to adopt her daughter.

There was a stranger, a strange _werewolf_ at the door. At the door of the currently-being-rebuilt-and-renovated Hale house. The unofficial, but very obvious, home base of the Hale pack. Derek growled at her and flashed his eyes.

"What are you doing here?"

She tilted her head submissively, avoiding his gaze. "I am Omega Jones, formerly of the Jones Pack. I am here to ask permission to pass through your territory, Alpha."

He narrowed his eyes at her. There was no lie in heartbeat, no sign of it in her scent. "How long will you be here?"

"A week, at most," she replied softly. "I swear that I mean no harm to your pack, and that no danger follows on my tail. I am neither hunter, nor hunted."

The words stirred memories in him, of Gerard and Victoria and Kate (and Allison and Chris), of smoke and bullets and black bile, and of fire, terrible flames that devoured his family. But they also stirred memories of travelling with Laura, of going from pack to pack, uttering those ritual words with as much certainty as they could. He considered it. An apparently sane omega, without any signs of danger, for a brief visit...he could tolerate that, and so he offered her the ritual reply. "You have safe passage through our territory, Omega Jones. May the moon light your path."

The tension in her slight frame was released all in an instant, then she froze. "Alpha, my daughter, also a werewolf, is travelling with me. She is very young, only a few months old, she has no enemies of her own, and offers no danger...does the safe passage extend to her too?"

A baby...he had not seen a baby werewolf since Nathan was young. "It does," he answered curtly. She sighed in relief, and before he could think about it, he went on. "Would you...like to come inside?" He felt awkward, clumsy, and anxious all at once inviting this stranger into his den, but everything about her was deferential, safe, and he missed the company of established wolves, who acted the way he expected them too, not the inexplicable teenagers that made up his pack.

She smiled at him, a little shyly, a lot relieved, and returned to her car to collect the baby and her diaper bag.

 

Derek didn't really know how to break the silence that fell over them as they sat on the couches (comfortable, Stiles had insisted, and since Derek didn't want to be bothered choosing them out, that's how they were) in the living room. "Why are you travelling when she's so young, Omega Jones?"

"Call me Amy, please. And she's the reason I'm travelling." There was an acrid tinge of distress and guilt layered over the other werewolf's scent. "I...I don't have a pack, since my family were killed,"

"I'm sorry for your loss," Derek said, gruffly, but all of him was thinking 'how many others? Me too.'

"Thank you. I'm not looking for, for people to replace them, it's only been a few years, and I can manage on my own. But I don't have a pack anymore, or a family, and her father's not in the picture, and...I just don't have the resources to raise her, to do right by her." She looked down at the sleeping baby with love and sorrow written all over her. "I can't put her up for adoption the normal way, so I've been travelling, looking for a pack to take her in. The father's name isn't on the birth certificate, so I can just say that some man from whichever pack is the father, and transfer custody that way. But I can't keep her."

Derek had seen it before, on his own travels. Werewolves could be as unprepared for parenthood as humans, even with the support of a pack. "How long have you been travelling?"

"Almost three months now. There are so many different ways to be wrong for a baby!" She laughed, and if there was an edge of bitterness, well, Derek was bitter too, sometimes. A lot of the time. "I've met packs who won't take anyone not their blood or bite; packs too large for new members; packs too small to be stable; packs too young and aggressive; packs too old and tired; packs with too many children of their own; packs that frankly, I just wouldn't trust with a child; and packs in too dangerous a situation to look after a baby."

"We're one of those last," Derek said. "We've had an eventful few years, and there are hunters here."

She looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. Have many died?"

He frowned. "Actually, no-one in or directly affiliated with the pack. Unaffiliated humans, and some of our enemies, but no pack members. Apart from," he took a deep breath, "my sister, but that was before the pack really got established."

"I'm sorry. You must be strong, though." He hadn't actually thought about it that way. Apart from Laura...he'd actually kept them safe. Not innocent, not unharmed, but alive.

 

The front door slammed open, and Derek realised that he'd been ignoring the sound of Stiles' Jeep for the past three minutes. "Derek!" they heard from the front hall. "Derek, for Christ's sake, would you come give me a hand with these groceries? I'd say your betas are going to eat me out of house and home, but luckily, they're on your credit card." The baby woke up and began to fuss. "Honestly, the way you guys go through food...do you think hunters ever figure out who werewolves are by the grocery bills? Oh, and by the way, what's with the car outside? I didn't recognise it, and I know everyone's cars, and it's not _yours_ , so whose...is that a baby?" He stuck his head into the living room. "Is that a _crying baby?_ Why do you...oookay, strange lady with a baby, Derek, do you have a secret love-child? And, oh shit, I woke her (her?) up, didn't I?"

Derek growled at him. "Stiles, this is Omega Amy Jones, who is visiting to request safe and peaceful passage through our territory, and has received it."  _Don't_ come up with brilliant plans or convoluted explanations, Stiles, for once things are actually straightforward. And okay. Probable. "Amy, this is Stiles, a human member of my pack."

She nodded at him, submitting to his authority. Derek was impressed. Few werewolves would submit to a human, even when the human was pack and they were omega. "It's nice to meet you. And yes, Arian's a girl. Don't worry too much about waking her, it's about time for her to eat anyway."

"Nice to meet you too, and seriously, I'm _so_ sorry, trust me, if there's one thing I've learned in life, it's _never wake a sleeping baby._ And, well, you can never have too many varieties of wolfsbane ash in your first aid kit, but that's a little morbid for a first meeting, isn't it?" Stiles basically never took a breath. Derek didn't know how he managed it. "Would you be willing to let me hold her? If it's time for her to eat, you can probably use our kitchen to get stuff ready, but you might need your hands, and the crying can't be nice for wolfy ears." It really wasn't. If Derek hadn't been missing everything that spoke of family for half a decade, he would be on the other side of the house right now. 

Amy smiled at Stiles, and nodded. Of course, if she wanted a pack to take the baby in, she couldn't be too protective. She had to give them opportunities to bond. And if she didn't want to bond too much herself, no wonder she wasn't breast-feeding. "Of course. And thank you. Here."

Stiles, usually clumsy, was oddly sure and settled with a baby in his arms. He looked comfortable. "Hello, little one. Arian." He looked up, speaking loudly to be heard through the screaming. "It's a pretty name. I'll do my best to calm her down, but you might want to adjourn to the kitchen. I've got this."

 

Derek nodded, and left the room, grateful for the reprieve. Amy followed.

"Is he...If you don't mind me asking, what is his place in the pack?" she asked, as she started the kettle boiling and put a bottle in the microwave to sterilize.

Derek shrugged. "His - friend is understating it, as I understand it, they're almost blood brothers - Scott was the first werewolf bitten around here when things started to go bad. Not by me. A rogue alpha."

Amy inhaled sharply. "Is that...how your sister died? How you became alpha?"

Derek looked away and crossed his arms. "Yes. Scott...didn't join my pack for a while, but he kept getting involved, and Stiles stuck his nose in everywhere. By now I think he's saved all of our lives at least once." 

Amy nodded. "He acts like an alpha mate."

"What?" Derek was almost sputtering. "He...what?"

Amy smiled. "Listen."

Now that he was paying attention, he could hear Stiles talking to Arian in the other room, rambling on like he always did, but in that tone of voice that babies loved. "That's it, Arian, come on now, sweetie. Food's on it's way, you won't be hungry long. I bet you eat more than a human baby, don't you? The betas eat more than me, god knows I spend enough time cooking for them. I wonder if Derek eats more than the others? Not that I'd know. He likes to be mysterious, our Alpha." Something primal in Derek was incredibly pleased to hear that, to hear Stiles claiming him so easily, so naturally. "Arian. It's a good name for a werewolf baby. I wonder, is it short for Arianrhod, or in reference to her, or just silver. Did you know that people think the Silver Wheel is the stars, not the moon? Maybe werewolves tell the story differently. Does your mother tell you that story? Arianrhod's a good woman to be like - all strong and smart and powerful. She had a terrible family, though. I hope your pack never treats you like that, hey? I know a guy like Gwydion, it isn't fun. Yeah, that's it, cariad, no need to cry. Does your mother call you cariad?"

Derek stopped listening and looked at Amy.

"I do, actually. I probably shouldn't." She smiled ruefully. "My family has Welsh roots, in case you couldn't tell, and she's easy to love. Why does Stiles know the Mabinogi?"

"The Hale pack has some Celtic connections, and Stiles...is slightly obsessed with research. I'm not surprised." He was surprised by the crooning, though. Stiles was an only child - where did he learn about babies?

The kettle clicked, and Arian began to mix up the formula. "You can see why I thought he was an alpha mate, though. He's very comfortable in your space; not too deferential; he barged in talking about feeding your betas with money from one of your credit cards; once you told him I wasn't a threat he was welcoming and hospitable;and when faced with a baby, he automatically and naturally took on a nurturing role."

Derek groaned. "He is _not_  an alpha mate. He's _seventeen_."

She nodded equably as she capped the bottle. "I can see how that would make things awkward. Are all your pack so young?"

"My uncle isn't, but his...place in the pack is...awkward. I'm guessing he was the one Stiles was comparing to Gwydion." Amy winced sympathetically. Gwydion was a morally ambiguous trickster, who caused far more trouble by 'helping' people than he solved, and seemed to decide who to care about almost arbitrarily, and ignore, manipulate, or outright harm the rest. An apt comparison, much though Derek hated to admit it. "The others are all Stiles' age."

"You must miss having people your age around," she speculated, as they made their way back to the living room.

"You have no. idea." Derek ground out.

 

“Hey, Arian, look! Food!” Stiles cooed (there was really no other word for it) when Derek and Amy came back. “Here you go, Amy.”

“Thanks, Stiles,” Amy said as she took Arian back in her arms. Arian must have already smelt the bottle, because she latched on alarmingly quickly. “You are such a glutton,” Amy muttered.

Not thirty seconds passed in silence before Stiles was talking again. “So, Amy. Where are you staying? The motel near the highway?”

She laughed. “I’ve been travelling for three months straight, and I’m not done yet! I can’t afford a motel every night.”

“Well, you aren’t sleeping in your car!” Stiles started. “Wait, no, seriously?” he flailed. “You can’t be sleeping in your car? I’ve done all night stakeouts in the jeep, that is _not_ comfortable.”

“My car is a bit more comfortable than a jeep, Stiles.” Amy smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. And it’s not all the time, either – a lot of packs have let me stay with them. I’ve probably only spent a few weeks total in the car.”

“Damnit, I’d offer you a spare room, but my dad doesn’t know, and random woman with baby doesn’t exactly scream open and honest.” Stiles twisted his face up as he thought. “You can’t stay with Erica, or Boyd, or Lydia or Jackson, for the same reason. You can’t stay with Scott – he’s got Isaac sleeping over tonight, and two houseguests at once is asking a bit much of Ms McCall.”

Scott’s mother had been really quite accommodating, once she got over the shock. And having a _reliable_ adult around, even a human one, was incredibly reassuring.

“You definitely can’t stay with the Argents,” Stiles continued, and Amy looked up in shock.

“There are Argents here? You…why is my staying with them even a possibility? Are they…are they not _the_ Argents?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “No, they’re the Argents you’re thinking of. There are only two that are local, and we have a treaty with them. Allison is…pack-adjacent.”

“What Derek means is that she’s Scott’s girlfriend,” Stiles said bluntly. “We have history with the Argents, all of us, not just Derek, like, serious Montagues and Capulets situation all up in here, Allison’s grandfather was literally the Devil, I’m not even kidding, and her mother was, not to speak ill of the dead, a stone cold bitch, but Chris is pretty decent, and Allison and Scott have this whole Romeo and Juliet thing going on, and, I mean, Chris and Derek tried to separate them, but there was _pining_. And _moping_. And you have _never_ seen moping until you’ve seen Scott do it, I mean, he has the puppiest (hah!) of puppy dog eyes, like only Isaac has better puppy-dog-eyes game than Scott, and honestly, Scott wasn’t inclined to listen to Derek any more than Allison was inclined to listen to Chris, so in the end it was decided that they could keep seeing each other and the mutual hatred and distrust of the Hales and the Argents has become the mutual suspicion and uneasy alliance of the Beacon Hills pack and the Beacon Hills hunters, and we get to see the Argent bestiary now (which was a _huge_ help with that pooka, actually) and Allison is training Lydia and I, and we’ve actually gotten to a couple of weeks on the No-Human-Injuries-at-Work calendar, so I’d say things are pretty good right now?”

Amy’s shock and horror had gradually turned to amusement as Stiles talked. “Are you sure you’re human? That was some pretty supernatural lung capacity.”

“You’re funny.” Stiles replied, deadpan. More seriously, he went on, “Look, Allison isn’t going to do anything to you or the lovely lady you’re holding, and Chris won’t either, not that we’ll tell him you’re around unless he asks. If Derek let you in, I’m assuming you haven’t hurt anyone and you aren’t going to, so he doesn’t have any reason to know.”

“He doesn’t,” Derek confirmed, and Stiles nodded.

“But that doesn’t solve the problem of you sleeping in your car.” Stiles turned to Derek, and asked, a little hesitantly, “Could she stay here?”

“This is the pack house.” Not that most of them lived there, but it was meant for them.

“Yeah, but, I mean, we did up a guest room right after yours and Isaac’s, and don’t local packs usually host travelling werewolves? And, I mean, you’ve given Amy run of the territory, and you’ve already let her in, is it that much harder for you to let her stay the night?” Stiles phone beeped, and whatever he saw there must have reminded him of something. “Shit! I’ve got to get home! I guess I’ll see you at the pack meeting tomorrow. Will Amy be there? Because she should totally meet everyone, so they don’t freak out when they smell a strange werewolf, because they _will_ freak out.”

Derek sighed. “Yes, Stiles, Amy will be there.”

“Cool. Oh! I can tell Scott, right, it’s not some big surprise?”

“Yes, you can tell Scott. You can tell anyone in the pack, Amy’s presence here isn’t a secret.” Secrets had…not been good for them, so far, and Derek was trying to be more open. He wasn’t sure if it was working.

“Awesome!” Stiles jumped to his feet and shoved his phone in his pocket. “Nice meeting you, Amy! You too, Arian. See you tomorrow!”

 

The house felt empty after Stiles left. The silence was almost as loud as the chatter had been, and Derek was almost glad of the company, even of strangers. He had a strange relationship with isolation, these days.

“Does he know he’s doing that?” Amy asked curiously. “That he never _actually_ gives you orders?”

Derek hadn’t noticed, but she was right. “I don’t pretend to understand what goes through that boy’s head.” His mouth twitched. “He was right, though. I’ll show you the guest room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I started writing this story because I got frustrated with the number of stories out there that, when they want to write Derek/Stiles as parents, use mpreg to get there. I've read some really interesting mpreg stories, and I've read some that justify the suspension of disbelief really well, but sometimes it seems like the author just wrote mpreg because it seemed like the easiest way for a male/male pair to have a kid. After a while, I started to imagine circumstances in which Derek might adopt - not just 'baby on the doorstep', but actual traditions and systems of adoption among werewolves. (After all, almost every reason to give a child up for adoption or to adopt a child must also apply to werewolves, even if they can't use the human system.) And then I ended up with this.


	2. Meeting the Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek calls a pack meeting, and introduces Amy to everyone.

Boyd and Erica arrived right on time, racing into the living room, then stopping dead on the threshold when they saw that their Alpha was calm and the stranger they’d scented was, apparently, peaceful.

Derek nodded a greeting. “I’ll explain everything when the others get here.”

They stared at him for a long moment, almost humming with tension, before Erica shrugged and pulled Boyd down on the couch. They lay there, curled up in each other, alternating with watching Derek and Amy warily and avoiding Derek’s gaze. The scent of their anxiety was cloying, and he longed to comfort them, but the easy touches he’d known as a child felt unnatural, awkward, now, and he couldn’t bring himself to close the distance between them.

 

Boyd and Erica had come to him, after Gerard, battered and bleeding, with tear streaks on Erica’s face, and told him what had happened. They’d said they were leaving, and he didn’t know what to say to them, these poor teenagers he’d promised a better life who’d got nothing from the bite but pain and fear, so he’d let them go. He couldn’t protect them, couldn’t look after them. Everyone he cared for ended up hurt anyway; better that they find a better life for themselves.

The pack had almost fallen apart. With Boyd and Erica gone, Isaac started spending more and more time with Scott, even sleeping there half the time. Jackson was wrapped in Lydia, both reeling from being used, by Matt and by Peter, and avoided even thinking about the supernatural if he could help it. Scott continued to defiantly announce his separation from the pack, as if his actions hadn’t spoken a thousand times louder than words ever could. Derek could still feel the hands on him, Gerard’s flesh between his teeth, just as he could remember all too well the life draining from him and into Peter…Peter, who had killed Laura, who had bit Scott and Lydia without their consent, who had used Lydia and Derek to come back from the dead…Stiles was right to call him Gwydion. Should his death wipe the slate clean? Certainly he was less insane than before. Derek couldn’t bear to leave him alive, but he couldn’t kill him – not the last of the Hales, the only adult born wolf Derek knew, the wild-card that could turn the tables, the third beta making up his pack. A weak pack, Derek, Isaac, Jackson, and Peter. There was no trust between them. It would have fallen apart, Derek knew. He would have been omega.

But Erica and Boyd had returned, almost a month later, his prodigal cubs (as Stiles called them, to Derek’s irritation – and secret amusement), and the world had not been kind to them. Friends and packmates before, Derek was sure that they were true mates now, though he hadn’t asked. They looked healthy, but smelled of fear and pain even more than before they had left, and they flinched at shadows. They came to Derek, seeking his protection. What could he do but offer it? And when he accepted them again, they _relaxed_ , as if he had actually made something better for once in his life.

When they came back, so did Isaac, to be with his true packmates, and Jackson saw their trust in Derek and came to him for help, and Lydia came with him whenever Peter was out (which he more and more was). And Erica and Boyd went to Stiles, to thank him, and somehow that became an invitation to pack meetings, and with Stiles there, at least there were no awkward silences, and the others weren’t as afraid, and he had a pack again. He didn’t deserve it, but he had it anyway.

 

The air was thick with the scent of anxiety and guilt and sadness by the time Stiles, Scott, Isaac, and Allison arrived, all in a cluster. Derek could see it hit Isaac like a blow to the face, making him cringe as his gaze darted about the room, searching for the reason. Scott was oblivious.

“Hi Amy!” Stiles called as he came in. “Hey, Arian! How’re you doing?”

Amy smiled uneasily at him and Scott as they approached. Allison hung back, and Isaac had joined Boyd and Erica on the couch. “I’m good, thanks, Stiles, how are you?”

He grinned at her. “I’m cool. I mean, I got like _no_ sleep last night cause I was up reading about, yanno, selkies and stuff – are selkies real? Derek, do you know? Not like we’ll see any around here, but that’d be cool, if selkies are real…”

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek interrupted at last. “As far as I know, selkies aren’t real.”

Stiles shrugged at him. “Well I’ve gotta _ask_ these things, I mean, a year ago _werewolves_ weren’t real, and now we’ve got this whole bestiary, and sure, half the stuff in it is _insanely_ rare, but, I mean, I didn’t think _vampires_ were real. Or, like, _fairies_.” He shuddered theatrically. “Fairies aren’t cool, man.”

Scott stepped in front of Stiles. “He basically won’t stop talking unless we start,” he said to Amy. “I’m Scott.”

She smiled at him and offered a hand. “Amy. It’s nice to meet you.”

“And this is Arian, right? God, I always forget how _tiny_ babies are at this age!” He looked completely fascinated by the (somehow still) sleeping infant. Somehow Derek wasn’t surprised that Scott liked babies.

“Do you have siblings?” Amy asked curiously.

Scott shook his head, hands in his pockets. “No, just me. But my mum’s a nurse? And my dad left when I was about seven, so I spent a lot of time at the hospital, growing up, and there are plenty of little kids there. That’s where I met Stiles, actually.”

She frowned sympathetically. “Were you sick?” she asked Stiles, and the sharp scent of grief thickened suddenly around him.

“No, my mother.” He ran a hand over his head, obviously uncomfortable. “She, uh, she had cancer. She died when I was twelve.”

Derek had known, but in that strange osmotic way you come to know things about people you aren’t very close with. He couldn’t remember who told him, or when. It was just another thing about Stiles that the whole pack knew: his dad was the Sheriff, he had ADD, his mother died of cancer when he was in elementary school. The loss hadn’t really seemed real before now, with Stiles’ grief hanging in the air. How many of them were grieving someone? He almost laughed. An Island of Misfit Toys, his pack – lonely and lost.

“I’m sorry,” Amy said, and you could say this for her, there was no false pity in her eyes. She knew loss too.

 

The awkward moment was broken by the arrival of Jackson and Lydia, before Stiles could break it with some conversational tangent.

“You’re late,” Derek pointed out gruffly as the pair sauntered in.

“You aren’t doing anything yet, are you?” asked Lydia in a pointed tone. “So clearly it isn’t significant.”

Derek growled, but he let it go. Lydia did _not_ submit easily, and he was picking his battles.

“So! Derek! Sharing time!” Stiles’ gleeful tone cut across the air of potential challenge. “Introductions!”

He shook himself slightly, and gestured Amy to stand. “This is Omega Amy Jones, who is travelling to look for a pack for her daughter Arian. She has promised that she brings no trouble with her, so I have offered her safe passage through our territory this week, and the hospitality of the pack.”

“You did? Awesome!” Stiles interrupted, but subsided quickly when Derek glared at him.

“Omega Jones, this is my pack. Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and Jackson are my Betas.” He pointed them out as he spoke. “Lydia and Stiles are human members of the pack, and Allison is a provisional human member at this stage.”

Scott deflated at the reminder, but he needed to test Allison more before he could fully accept her. He didn’t want a half-pack like before, full of broken bonds and unease. He wouldn’t make anyone trust unless they were ready to trust. Except him. But he didn’t trust anyone, he was used to it.

 

“You’re looking for a pack for your kid?” Jackson asked, sitting up from his usual lounge. “Why?”

“I’m not ready for a baby,” Amy admitted. “Not financially, not emotionally. She needs a pack, and I’m not ready to seek one out for myself. I wish I could keep her, but I wouldn’t be able to do right by her, and I’d rather her be happy with a family that _is_ ready to love and raise her.”

Jackson frowned, but Scott nodded sympathetically. “Being a single mom is pretty tough. The father can’t help you?”

Amy shook her head. “One night stand. He was long gone by the time I knew. And before you ask, I don’t know anyone who could successfully perform an abortion for a werewolf, so that wasn’t even an option.”

Erica looked interested at that. Oh god, she was having sex with Boyd already, what if _she_ got pregnant? They’d be in the same situation as Amy, then. He would have to talk to Deaton. And, oh god, Erica. That was going to be a very awkward conversation. He tucked the thought in the back of his mind for later.

“Can’t you use the normal foster system?” Allison asked.

“I’m almost certain Arian’s a werewolf,” Amy countered. “How do you think that would work out for her?” She shook her head. “She needs a pack.”

“It’s actually not that unusual,” Derek offered, hoping to get the spotlight off Amy. “When a werewolf has a baby they can’t raise, and their pack can’t raise, they look for another pack to take the baby in. Infertility is rare in werewolves, but there are plenty of good reasons to adopt.”

 

They still looked curious, and Stiles was, of course, bursting with questions, but he really didn’t call them here to talk about babies. “Now, out into the woods. I’ve hidden clothes belonging to each of you at least a mile out in the woods. Go find them.”

The wolves scattered, leaving Derek, Amy, Allison, Lydia, and Stiles. “We can look after Arian if Amy wants to join in with everyone,” Stiles pointed out. “It’s cool, today’s a research day anyway, at least until lunch.”

Derek looked at Amy and raised an eyebrow. “That would be lovely,” she said. “I’ve done so much driving lately, it would be wonderful to stretch my legs. You know how to mix up the formula and everything?”

Stiles waved his hands in a ‘shoo’ing gesture. “I’ve got this. I spent at _least_ as much time around hospital babies as Scott. Go have fun.”

Why was Stiles volunteering to spend time with the baby? Was he being nice to Amy? Did he want her out of the room while the humans researched? Did he just _like_ babies? Derek shrugged internally at yet another Stiles mystery, and grinned ferally at Amy. “Let’s go, then.”


	3. The Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the pack training day, and Amy asks Derek a serious question.

"Dude!" Scott yelled at Stiles. "Dude, we were playing, like, hide and seek near the lake, and I'd already found Boyd so we were just hanging out, and then Isaac comes running in and goes, like, ten feet up one of those big pine trees, and man, I could not see him at _all_ , like, that was seriously impressive."

Isaac ducked his head. "It wasn't that cool," he muttered.

"It really was, man. 'Cause Erica showed up, like, two minutes later, and she just had _no idea_ where Isaac was."

"Seriously?" Stiles exclaimed. "That's awesome! Well, not for Erica, but Isaac...awesome job, man! Erica's badass at tracking!"

"That's the best part!" Scott went on. "She totally found the tree! Like, she kept circling it, and like, swearing at Isaac, 'cause she could tell he had been there, but she _never looked up_."

Stiles turned to look at Derek. "You need to train your betas more. That is, like, rule two on the 'How to Survive a Horror Movie' list."

Amy interrupted, amused. "There's a list?"

Jackson groaned, "Here we go again."

"Rule one," Stiles started, "Don't split up. Rule two, look up. Rule three, turn the lights on or bring a bloody torch. Rule four, don't go into the basement. Rule five, if it seems creepy, it's probably creepy. Avoid it. Rule six, just because the _first_ weird noise was your friend messing around, doesn't mean you should ignore the _second_ weird noise. Rule seven, there is nothing cool about abandoned buildings."

Derek crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "How many of these rules have you broken in the last year?"

Stiles sputtered. "I have - I have _not_ broken the horror-movie-rules! I - Scott, tell Derek I haven't broken the rules!"

"Um, dude, you met Derek because you heard there was half a body lying around somewhere in the preserve and you wanted to go find it," Scott pointed out.

Stiles flailed his arms. " _You_ , Scott, are a traitor of the meanest, most irredeemable kind. I don't know how I ever called you my brother." He sniffed dramatically, and Isaac laughed.

"That's enough," Derek cut in. "Combat training." The others groaned, but they _needed_ this. They'd been hurt, all of them, too many times. He wasn't going to let that happen again - he hoped, _god,_ he hoped not. "Stiles, Allison, Lydia - you're doing target practice today, yes?" It was Allison who set their schedule, but Derek kept track of it. "Everyone else, pair up. Jackson, you're with me."

Amy watched curiously as the humans packed up their things and they all trooped outside again. She picked up Arian from where she was playing on a baby blanket, and followed.

\----------

"What do you notice?" Derek asked Jackson, as the wolves sparred. Erica had paired up with Boyd, and Scott with Isaac. Derek frowned. It was good that they had strong ties, but the pack couldn't be made up of subgroups like that: Scott and Stiles; Scott and Allison; Jackson and Lydia; Erica and Boyd; Erica and Boyd and Isaac; Isaac and Scott; Allison and Stiles and Lydia. And it didn't get past him that Jackson's strongest tie was to the humans, not the wolves.

"Like what?" Jackson was always stubborn. Derek didn't know whether he needed to be put in his place, or supported and listened to. So he did nothing. Like always.

"You're co-captain of the lacrosse team," Jackson's eyes flashed, and Derek sighed. God he was sick of this bullshit, "you understand tactics. What are they doing right? What do they need to fix?"

Jackson snorted, "Erica's too aggressive; Isaac's too defensive; Scott is telegraphing _everything;_ and Boyd's predictable."

"Good." Derek nodded, and called out: "Hold!" The others stopped. "What do you think of Jackson's criticisms?"

Scott looked confused. "What?"

Derek frowned at him. "Jackson and I were talking about your fighting styles. If you didn't hear us, you weren't paying enough attention to your surroundings."

"But you're right over there!" he objected.

Derek frowned more. "You're a _werewolf_ ," he said slowly. "Tell me, what was Allison doing while you were fighting?"

Scott screwed his face up in concentration. "She was, uh, telling Lydia she needed to compensate for the wind? And telling Amy about the pooka. Stiles was arguing with her," he added.

Erica sniggered, and Derek sighed. "So you were automatically listening out for Allison, but had no idea what I was saying when I was running _your_ training session." He flashed his eyes. "Work on your priorities, Scott. And pay attention to your surroundings."

 ----------

"Okay, sweaty werewolves need to shower and change before dinner," Stiles announced as they trooped inside. "Even _I_ can tell that you stink."

Derek's mouth twitched, and he tilted his chin up the stairs, where the extra bathrooms were. The wolves dutifully headed up, some more raucously than others. "Do I need to order takeout?" he asked.

"Nah," Stiles flapped a hand at him. "The takeout places hate delivering here, they think it's creepy. I'm doing pasta. But you'd better send me some helpers once they get back downstairs," he warned. "I am your research guy, not your maid!"

Derek raised his eyebrows. "You buy the food, you cook the food, you frequently do the dishes..."

"You aren't funny," Stiles said shortly, although he was clearly trying not to grin. "And you're useless in the kitchen, so...shoo. Go supervise your betas, Sourwolf."

Amy looked at the stairs, then at the door to the living room, where Allison and Lydia were waiting, then at Stiles and Derek. "I think I'll help Stiles," she offered. "If you don't mind?"

"It's cool," Stiles said. "The kitchen is the place to be, clearly. Oh, you should give Arian to Lydia and Allison, though, free up your hands."

She snorted. "I do have a baby sling, you know. And I clearly don't object to putting her down, I can't drive with a baby in my arms. But sure."

She looked at Allison and Lydia, clearly sizing them up. She seemed less wary of Allison, but still cautious, and Lydia was not the maternal type. After a moment, she passed the baby to Allison. "Let the others hold her when they come down," she suggested, clearly trying not to make it an order. "She's feeling pretty social at the moment, I think."

Allison took Arian a little hesitantly, but competently, and smiled at Amy. "I'll do that."

The group split up, and Derek followed the girls into the living room. Amy would be happier if he were there, he knew. An alpha was at least some protection against an Argent.

 

The others trickled into the room gradually. Boyd was first, followed quickly by Isaac, then Scott, then Erica (who had put on makeup again, who knows why), and at last Jackson, who both hated cooking and seemed to be avoiding the baby. Boyd, on the other hand, gravitated to her right away.

"Could I play with her?" he asked Allison.

"Sure," she said. "I think she'll be ready for a nap, soon, though."

"Yeah," he smiled, almost shyly. "She's at about that age. Where's her bag?" Allison pointed. "Oh, right."

He pulled out a baby blanket first, and put Arian on it on her tummy. She pushed herself up and looked at him curiously. "Hey, Ari," he said softly. "You're a clever little one, aren't you?"

"Oh, cool," said Erica curiously. "I didn't know she could crawl."

Boyd shook his head. "She's too young for that," he explained. "She's just looking around. Give it a few months." He smiled at Erica. "You wanna come play with her?"

She shrugged. "Okay, I guess."

Derek watched as they brought out some bright plastic something-or-others, then said quietly to Isaac. "You'd better help Stiles. I think these two will be busy for a while."

Isaac had been watching Erica and Boyd and Arian, almost hungrily - it was so _familiar,_ his reaction to them - but at Derek's suggestion he left the room. It was quiet - Lydia and Jackson and Scott and Allison talking quietly, wrapped up in each other, while Erica and Boyd played with the baby. There was something lonely, being in a room full of couples, but there was also something intensely, instinctively satisfying, seeing his pack calm and happy and safe. He didn't mind being lonely for that.

\-------

 _"And that is why, effective immediately, I am shutting down the weapons manufacturing division of Stark Industries_."

Stiles phone started ringing, and he jumped, looking frantically down at Arian, napping in his arms, and then around at the room. "Shit, sorry guys, I need to, shit, I need to take this, it's my dad, why on earth is he calling me?"

"Could you shut up and answer the phone, Stilinski?" Jackson drawled. "We're trying to watch the movie."

"I'll take her," Derek murmured from where he sat next to Stiles. Stiles stared at him wide-eyed, but Derek just took Arian gently from his arms and tilted his head towards the door. "Go."

"Uh, right." Stiles jumped up from the couch, stumbled through the pile of limbs on the floor that was Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, and left the room. "Hi, Dad, what's up?" Derek heard, before he closed the door.

Arian started to stir in her sleep. They'd only got her down for a nap half an hour ago; if she woke now, she'd be fussy for ages. Derek began to rumble, deep in his chest, the way his father used to when he was little. She settled, unsurprisingly. It was a sound that meant another wolf was holding you safe and close, a wolf that felt comfortable with their surroundings. He'd never felt safer than when his parents used to do that. Laura had tried, after the fire, but it...it didn't feel the same. He felt eyes on him, and looked up.

"Are you...purring?" Jackson asked, incredulously.

"I thought you wanted to watch the movie," Derek growled. They all seemed to realize they were staring, and looked back at the screen, and he returned his gaze to Arian. She was so vulnerable, asleep in his arms. He leaned closer, took a breath of her wolf-baby-oil-honey-apple scent. It was mixed in with the scents of Stiles, Boyd, Erica, Allison - even Isaac and Scott had held her. She smelt like _pack,_ like _family_ , this tiny, fragile thing. He almost whimpered, but he shoved it down. He was just holding her until Stiles got back. He was just rumbling to keep her asleep.

 --------

Eventually, the pack returned to their respective homes, and Isaac went up to his room, leaving Derek and Amy in the living room, which looked far more lived-in after having the pack there for a day. The cushions from the couch were spread all over the floor; there were books on the coffee table and a couple of empty popcorn bowls; and the TV was showing the menu screen for the Iron Man DVD they'd been watching. Derek sighed, picked up the popcorn bowls, and went into the kitchen to load the dishwasher. The pack weren't _total_ slobs, but they were teenagers, and it showed. Amy followed him.

"You know," she started softly, "Of all the packs I've met, these last three months, your pack is the first one I'd trust to look after Arian."

"What." Derek didn't...what did she...how on earth...just...what?

"You're a strong pack in an established territory, you're obviously financially comfortable, most of you like kids and know what to do with one..." She shrugged. "There's a lot to recommend you."

"They're all teenagers! They'll be at college in a couple of years!"

"They'll come back."

Derek...wasn't actually sure of that. They'd only just become any sort of cohesive pack, he couldn't, shouldn't, rely on lasting loyalties. Lydia was too smart to live her life in a town like this, and Jackson would follow her. Scott had never had close ties to Derek, and Allison even less so - all they had now was an uneasy truce. Stiles...surely Stiles would want to see the world, want to go to some amazing college halfway across the country. His original three, yes, they would probably come back, but he just couldn't believe that the others would.

Amy shook her head. "Look, I know you don't think so, but...your pack ties are getting stronger, not weaker. There are personality conflicts, but every family bickers." He drew in a sharp breath at that. They weren't a family, not really, not yet, but maybe... "They're working through those problems, getting to know and trust each other more. In a year or two, when they _do_ leave for college...I think you'll have some pretty close ties by then. And they all grew up here - it's not just the pack that makes this town home for them."

"You say we're a strong pack, but...they're all bitten. The only stuff they know is what I teach them, and I wasn't even an adult when my family...died. How could we get the respect of other packs? We're lucky none of them have looked too closely at us. How could we teach Arian everything she needs to know?" He'd been avoiding the thought of alliances with other packs, but he knew they needed them. For knowledge, for support, for warnings. For safe passage when they were travelling. He didn't know how alliances really worked; his mother had never taught him. And he knew that he'd need the knowledge, if he didn't want to bargain from a position of weakness.

"They're bitten, yes, but they're learning fast. They have better control than some wolf kids do at their age, particularly Boyd. You have five strong betas, including a mated pair. Even bitten, that's not a weak pack, particularly once you take the humans into account. And Stiles's research is impressive - I think between him and what you remember, you'll have enough knowledge to make it work. And didn't he mention the old Hale emissary is still around? That's an impressive resource."

Derek frowned. "I have six betas, Amy. You didn't meet Peter today because I don't trust him around a baby, and he makes Lydia, Stiles, and Scott uncomfortable."

"He's the Gwydion, right?" Derek nodded, and Amy shrugged. "I won't say that doesn't concern me, because it does, but you're obviously keeping him around for a reason. If he becomes a threat, you can kick him out of your territory, or even kill him if you must. A lot of packs have someone like that, but if you are all _aware_ that he is like that, I'd say you're not the worst off that I've seen."

"Really? We have _Argents_ in our territory. They killed almost the entire Hale pack when I was younger." And it was his fault, his fault...how could he protect his pack when he had killed his family?

"And now you have a treaty with them. If Scott and Allison end up mated, and they're obviously headed that way, I don't think it'll break easily. She'll keep her father in line - they're matriarchal, aren't they? - and they'll help you manage other hunters. They're obviously helping you already."

He growled and flashed his eyes. "We only _need_ their help because this territory is _dangerous_. Deaton says that the woods," well, the Nemeton, but there was a limit to what he'd tell an omega, "attract supernatural creatures, so it isn't going to get quieter, either."

"Not everything supernatural is bad." She waved a hand around the room. " _We're_ supernatural. Some you can make alliances with, or non-interference agreements, and the others...you haven't lost a pack member, or a family member of someone in your pack, since you became Alpha. You're capable, Derek. More than capable: you're doing a _good job_."

He cringed away from that thought, and she put a hand on his arm. "Derek," she said quietly. "You've given me a lot of reasons why Arian shouldn't be here. But you haven't said that you don't _want_ her here."

He...he didn't know what he wanted. What he wanted didn't matter, anyway, but he still didn't know what it was.

"Please, Derek," she said, tilting her head in submissive entreaty. "Just...don't say no yet? I'm not leaving tomorrow, you don't have to decide now. Just...please, Alpha Hale, please think about it."

Derek didn't move at all as she left the kitchen, gathered up Arian and her things, and retreated upstairs. He just stood there, as contradictory emotions and half-formed thoughts chased themselves around his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, guys, I can't _believe_ the positive response I've gotten on this! I'm pretty sure it took at least a month for my Avengers fic to get this much attention! Clearly I need to keep writing. But, uh, fair warning...I tend to write fairly in-depth, slow-paced stuff. In case you couldn't tell already. I mean, this fic is about Derek becoming a father and the shifts in pack dynamics that surround that, and he won't even actually _adopt_ the kid for another couple of chapters, most likely. Also, I usually don't update this frequently. I'm on break right now, so I have a lot of spare time, but once semester starts in March, we'll be down to a chapter every week or two. 
> 
> Since I keep referring to Gwydion etc, I should probably give you a quick explanation of what they're talking about. Gwydion and Arianrhod are both characters in the Fourth Branch of the Mabinogi, a medieval Welsh story with strong mythical and pagan underpinnings. They are siblings, and throughout the tale Gwydion is awful to Arianrhod. She is a strong, politically independent noblewoman, with at least some magical skill, and her name means Silver Wheel, which probably refers to the stars, or possibly the moon. He is a manipulative, morally ambiguous trickster - at one point, he starts a war so his friend can get the girl, and when she refuses, he helps his friend rape her. He is very protective and supportive of his nephew/son Lleu (it's complicated), but in helping Lleu, he more or less ignores everyone else's well-being and agency.
> 
> Thank you again for your lovely comments and kudos (and bookmarks and subscriptions, oh my!) - it's nice to feel loved. Keep them coming, pretty please? Also, if you like this, you may like my other work-in-progress, It's Not Easy, or the other bits and pieces I've written.


	4. Let Me Tell You What I Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek, frustrated and bewildered by Amy's offer, goes to talk to Stiles.

Derek ran. In confusion, and in turmoil, he shifted, and he ran, crossing and circling the Preserve, over and over, until moon-set pulled him back to himself and he found his way to Stiles' house.

The sheriff wasn't home, and Stiles was awake, late as it was, typing and muttering about something Derek couldn't quite make out. When Derek slipped in through the window, he jumped.

"Shit, Derek!" He was half yelling, half whispering, gesticulating wildly as he talked. "Dude! We just had a pack meeting a couple of hours ago! You couldn't have talked to me then? Shit, did you not _need_ to talk to me then? Did something happen? Is the pack okay? Is anyone dead? Are you okay? You don't look like you're bleeding, are you bleeding anywhere?"

"Stiles!" Derek growled, flashing his eyes. "Calm down. Nothing's wrong."

He could feel the blip in his heart-rate as he spoke, and though Stiles obviously couldn't..."I call bullshit," he said. He was calmer, though. "You never come talk to me when everything's 'okay'. You only show up here when you need help. What happened, Sourwolf?" 

Derek was silent for a long minute before he spoke. "Amy asked me to adopt the baby."

Stiles' mouth dropped open. "You're kidding me. She...what? And that...dude, you don't know how to say no to a pretty face? You tell _us_ 'no' all the time."

Derek shrugged. "I..." he began helplessly, trailing off when he realised he didn't know what to say.

"Wait..." Goddamn Stiles and his quick thinking. "You didn't want to say no? You...Derek, what the hell, you want a _baby_?"

Derek's shoulders slumped. "I would be a terrible father," he admitted.

 

Stiles sat back in his office chair, running a hand over his buzz-cut and breathing out heavily. His scent was all over the place - residual panic from Derek's arrival, confusion, surprise, that undertone of arousal that was always fucking _there_ , and...something that was affection/longing/sympathy, just a tinge of it, all layered over his usual sugar-Adderall-old books-petrichor scent. "...Why do you say that?" he said at last.

Derek raised an eyebrow, disbelieving. "I'm a terrible alpha. You've told me so plenty of times."

"But once you started listening to us, you got better," Stiles countered. "You stopped beating us up and threatening us, you started actually telling us things, you started doing pack bonding stuff - you rebuilt your house for the pack!"

Derek huffed. "If 'not beating you up or threatening you' is 'better', then I'd say I was worse than terrible."

"Look, you haven't treated us like that since, I don't know, since Gerard? Or when Erica and Boyd came back? And before that...you had every reason to be angry, well, not at us, but at life, sure, and, you know, we're pretty irritating..."

"Stiles," Derek interrupted. "Reasons aren't excuses. I was a terrible alpha, and Scott was right to hate me."

Stiles made a frustrated noise. "Scott was - and I say this with all the affection of years of friendship - an ass, Derek. He was projecting his own issues with being a werewolf onto you instead of treating you like a person." He looked away and muttered, "He's still doing that. Idiot." He raised his voice again. "Look, dude, you stuffed up. You made mistakes. I'm sure as hell not going to say you did everything right - have I ever?"

Derek snorted. "You've never been shy about sharing your opinions, Stiles."

"Exactly!" Stiles was looking triumphant, for some reason. "And _you've started to listen_. Dude, if you fuck this up, it's not like we aren't going to make you fix it. Like we made you fix the Alpha stuff." Derek looked at him doubtfully, but Stiles kept talking. " _Isaac's_ dad was a terrible father, okay? Or Scott's dad, who used to yell all the time before he left. Or Lydia's dad, who barely even fought for custody in the divorce. Or, I don't know, I assume Jackson's issues don't come from a perfect home life. If you're this worried about it already, I'm pretty sure the worst you're gonna be is clueless."

Derek looked away.

"Look, dude, maybe it's not feasible. Looking after a kid isn't easy; there's logistics to worry about. But I'll ask around for you, okay? I'll talk to the pack, talk to Deaton and Ms McCall, and do some research - no-one's going to think it's weird that I'm researching werewolf babies when there's a werewolf baby in town, people won't think it has anything to do with you - and I'll figure out if we could even make it work. Maybe we can't. But maybe we can, you know?" Stiles was leaning forward earnestly with a pleading expression on his face. "Just...sometimes you get to have what you want, Derek. Sometimes you _deserve_ to have what you want. So, uh, think about how you'd feel, I guess, if you couldn't have Arian, if Amy took her away from you. And think about how you'd feel if you didn't have an option and you had to keep her. And just..." he sighed. "Just let yourself want what you want."

If he couldn't have Arian...he'd be disappointed, relieved for her sake, but he'd be wishing he could be her family. And if he had to keep her...fearful, hopeful, determined, wondering, awed. It didn't clarify anything, to imagine those feelings. There was no certainty in them. He stood up. "Good night, Stiles," he said gruffly.

"Uh...yeah! Uh, good night? Was that a yes on the research?" Stiles looked confused, and Derek could hear his voice trail off as he jumped out of the window and started his run towards home. "I guess I'll just...get going on that, then."

\--------

Derek was waiting in Stiles' room when he came upstairs after dinner. It had been nearly two days, and Amy was only going to be here until Friday.

Stiles walked in texting someone, and didn't see him until he shut the door and turned the light on. "Dude!" he flailed. "Jesus, Sourwolf, were you just sitting here in the dark? It's not that hard to let me know you're here!"

Derek growled, and flashed his eyes impatiently. It felt like every muscle he had was tense.

"Right, yeah, the research." Stiles grabbed his laptop and a notebook. "So, I haven't written this up yet, but I can tell you what I found?" He paused for a second, took Derek's silence as an affirmative, and went on:

"So, I talked to the pack. Lydia and Jackson dislike kids, which surprises no-one, but Scott and Boyd love them and know what they're doing with them. Erica and Allison are too badass to want kids, but they think they're cute, and based on Scott and Boyd's reactions, they might change their minds later down the track. Isaac is completely bewildered by children, but he'd like to learn more about them. I, obviously, like babies, and you, as we know, are surprisingly good at them.

I asked Deaton about werewolf babies - apparently I'm not allowed to call them pups, or cubs, which sucks, I mean, wouldn't that be cute? - and he said that they might not start showing until their late teens, even if they are a werewolf, but on the other hand, they might start showing as an infant. Apparently werewolf traits are patchy until the first full shift, which is usually just pre-teen, so the kids get vaccinations like everyone else, also, not having a medical record is a bit suspicious. Apparently even if they do start to shift young their teeth aren't sharp until they've lost all their baby teeth, which is fantastic, but their claws might need trimming until they learn not to slash people. Did you get your claws trimmed when you were little? I bet you were grumpy even as an adorable four year old."

He had, actually. He'd hated it.

 

"He said that the adoption process is pretty straight-forward, which, I mean, Amy said that too, but it's good to get it confirmed? But there's, like, this ceremony with the pack where they all acknowledge her, so we should do that before Amy leaves, if you do adopt. And werewolf kids are apparently really tactile, and sometimes they have difficulty with sensory overload, which totally makes sense, so I looked up stuff for that, and maybe we should like, uber-soundproof the kid's room or something, and also just stuff like not having really spicy foods or strong smelling chemicals, but I figured you probably preferred that stuff anyway and knew what to buy? But I made a list, so you can have it if you aren't sure.

I looked up a bunch of stuff about adopted kids, too, and they said that it was really important that they know they were adopted, but also that that didn't mean they weren't wanted, and that the family ties were real even if they weren't biological. But I figured, that's probably easier for wolves, because pack's kind of a found family thing anyway." Derek took in a sharp breath. "And I talked to Amy, and she said that it wouldn't be fair to Arian's parents for her to be too involved, but that she'd like to keep in touch, maybe visit occasionally, if the pack was willing.

Oh, and I asked Ms McCall what it was like being a single parent, and she said it was really rewarding but it was difficult financially (although, if you dip into the life insurance money then you should be fine - I know you hate using it, but still), and she also said that she was really lucky her work was so accommodating, and I don't think the mechanics would be, so you'll definitely have to organise some sort of baby-sitting roster and maybe take fewer hours?"

Derek worked at the mechanics mainly for something to do while the pack was at school, although the effect on his reputation from having a job was also a good thing. And he hated using his family's blood money. He had some savings, from working in New York, but he preferred to earn his living.

Stiles kept talking, babbling even, regardless of Derek's lack of reaction. "And Deaton said that a lot of werewolf families home-school. Some of them up until the first full shift or middle school, whichever comes last; and some of them only _after_ the first full shift, at least for a couple of years; and some of them all the way through. So I looked up stuff about home-schooling, and it's really hard for single parents, but by the time she needs that we'll all be back from college, probably, so you can still keep working and you can like, split up the stuff she has to know among the pack."

Stiles thought they'd all come back after college?

 

"Now, safety was kind of a concern, but I think we can make it work. This last year, we've almost never actually been attacked in our homes, right? Stuff tends to go down in the Preserve, or in warehouses, or at the school, or whatever. And generally we know something's happening before anyone actually gets attacked - or, well, anyone in the pack, at least. But I was thinking about the fire, and that thing with Scott and Mrs Argent, and I figure the smart thing to do, is that when we think there's something going on, the baby gets a human and a werewolf on guard, one for physical threats, one for supernatural barriers and shit, and maybe we could set up a panic room in the house? I mean, maybe not, but I've been working on wards with Deaton, and I could probably learn some more and make things, like, fireproof and stuff."

Derek flinched. He didn't...his family had been trapped, they'd thought they were safe, but the protective walls turned into a cage and they were caught, and trapped, and they _burned_ , and....

"Hey!" Stiles voice broke through the memories. "Hey, Sourwolf, it's cool, it's okay. Seriously, we can do this. We've kept ourselves alive so for, we can keep her alive, okay? You'll train the betas, and Allison and Deaton will train me and Lydia, and we'll make alliances, and I'll look up, like, castle building and we'll fortify the house, and we'll keep her safe. Things are quieter now, anyway, even with the Nemeton. We can do this, if you want to. We can keep her safe." Seeming to notice that Derek had calmed down, he went on.

 

"But, uh, there was something I wanted to ask you, actually. Ms McCall said that being friends with Dad was really, really helpful to her after Scott's dad left, and if you're going to have a baby then it'll probably be better if he's not so suspicious of you, and I was thinking that it's actually gotten quiet enough - I mean, we still get weird shit passing through, but it's nowhere near as bad as the Argents were - that maybe Dad knowing might be a good thing?"

The words tumbled over themselves, and Stiles smelt of uncertainty and worry, and he seemed to be looking for Derek's approval. "Why are you asking me? He's your father."

Stiles frowned. "Yeah, but you're the Alpha," he countered. "It's you he's going to go after with a shotgun if this goes badly."

"Do you think that's likely?" He probably deserved it.

"No?" Stiles really wasn't sure, by the sound and smell of him. "I mean, chances are I'll be grounded for life and he'll come round and threaten you, but he probably won't actually _shoot_ , I mean, you've saved my life three, four times now?"

"Six."

"Right, yeah." Stiles ran a hand over his hair, and his leg was jittering incessantly. "Jesus, I don't want him involved in this."

"Then why tell him?" Derek had never understood Stiles' desperate secrecy. He'd wanted it kept secret, but he had never understood _Stiles'_ reasons.

"Because I hate lying to him, and if you adopt Arian, I'm going to be spending a heck of a lot more time at the house." He sighed, oblivious to Derek's surprise. "And it's always been a toss-up as to whether having the right weapons will help him more than being involved will harm him. This is my life now; I kind of want him involved. Plus, having the Sheriff in the know will make our lives a _lot_ easier when shit's going down." He twisted his face up for a second. "So, yeah, if you adopt Arian, can I tell him? You don't need to be there, he'll take it better if it's Scott, but, uh, yeah."

"Yes."

"Great!" Stiles perked up instantly, but then the confusion came back. "Was that 'yes, I'm adopting Arian and you should tell your Dad', or 'yes, if I adopt Arian you can tell your Dad', or just 'yes, tell your Dad'?"

Derek sat silently for a long moment. Ever since the possibility had come up, he had wanted Arian. He'd hated wanting her, feared wanting her. But he wanted her. At last, he smirked. "Yes."

He slipped out of the window as Stiles sputtered behind him, finally calling out to him, "I guess I'll collate that research for you? And, uh, I'll tell Dad tomorrow, I guess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone - thank you so much for all the kudos! I'm still kind of in shock at how popular this is. This chapter has a whole lotta Stiles, which was kind of fun to write. Next chapter will probably be Derek actually adopting the baby (yes, it's taken me almost ten thousand words to get the premise for the story set up, I'm kind of like that when I write).
> 
> I always love to hear your comments, questions, and ideas, so let me know what you think!


	5. Spreading the News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek tells everyone that he's going to adopt Arian.

Derek had just finished his shift when the phone rang. He tried not to turn it off, even at work, in case of emergencies, but he was fairly sure he knew what this call would be about.

"Hey Derek!"

"Stiles," he acknowledged.

"So, I've been telling my dad about...things - that's going well by the way," Derek _didn't_ sigh in relief, really, "and he wanted to know why I was telling him now, and I was wondering if it was okay for me to tell him about that thing we talked about yesterday?"

Stiles was being unusually vague, which probably meant..."Scott's still there?"

"Yeah. I'll ask him to keep it quiet, but he's kind of awful with secrets and I wasn't sure if this was a secret?"

He hadn't actually told anyone yet. He hadn't actually asked _Amy_ yet. But he'd told Stiles he was going to do it, and it was always going to happen fast, so..."Everyone else will hear at the pack meeting tonight. Seven o'clock. You can tell them."

"Awesome!" Stiles seemed at a loss for something else to say. "Okay, right, yeah, I guess I'll tell them that, then. Oh!" He must have remembered something. "Dad will probably want to talk to you. Could I bring him by before the pack meeting? He won't stay, but..."

"That's fine, Stiles. See you tonight," he interrupted.

"Oh, uh, see you then, Sourwolf."

Stiles hung up, and Derek stared at his phone. Telling everyone tonight, the Sheriff would know in the next five minutes...he needed to talk to Amy.

Before he got in his car, he sent out a group text to the pack. " _Pack meeting 7pm tonight. Erica, Boyd, come early."_ They'd complain about the short notice, but most of them weren't busy anyway.

\--------

"Hi Derek," Isaac called out from upstairs as he shut the front door.

"Hey, Isaac," he replied, not bothering to yell. "Amy, can I talk to you please?"

"Just let me get Arian settled," she said from her room. "I'll be down in a minute."

He waited impatiently in the living room, pacing back and forth, until she finally came down the stairs to join him.

"What do you need to talk about?" she asked, an apprehensive expression on her face. "Is something wrong?"

"Isaac, turn your ears off," he ordered curtly, then took a deep breath. It felt like crossing the Rubicon to say it aloud, like once he asked, everything was set in stone. Could he really do this? Should he really do this? _Sometimes you deserve to have what you want_ , Stiles had said. He watched the floor, not Amy's face, as he said quietly, "What you asked me on Saturday...is that offer still open?"

Confusion, surprise, shock, excitement, happiness bloomed one after another in Amy's scent. "Oh my god. Really? You...you're saying yes?"

He took a fortifying breath, and nodded. "Yes," finally, he looked up, to see her _beaming_ at him, "I am."

"Oh gods, Derek, that's...that's so good to hear." She was biting her lip, trying to suppress her smile.

He couldn't smile back. "Are you...certain you want to trust me with this? I...have a pack, but I'm more or less on my own." She won't have a mother, he didn't say. "And my points about the danger still stand."

She raised her eyebrows. "Derek, so do mine. I trust you. You've kept them all safe, you can keep her safe."

Derek sighed. "In that case...I've only talked to Stiles about this; I'm going to have a pack meeting tonight to tell the others..."

"Do you want me there, or would you rather I get out of your hair?" She smiled sympathetically.

A corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "If you could, say, go out for dinner around six thirty and stay in town for an hour or so...?"

Amy nodded decisively. "That sounds fine. Should I take Arian with me?"

He hadn't thought about that. "If we can't look after her for an hour without you, I'd say there's a fundamental problem with the plan. Take a night off."

She smiled. "I will, then." She bit her lip, indecisive, then leaned forward and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened. No one had hugged him since...the kanima pool incident didn't actually count...since Laura. "Thank you, Derek," Amy said, the words muffled in his shoulder. "Thank you."

\--------

It was a quarter past six when the Sheriff's cruiser pulled up, Scott and Stiles inside. Derek waited outside the front door, arms crossed, for whatever sort of lecture he was about to get.

"Hale," the Sheriff acknowledged, his face almost impossible to read. His scent was mixed, but at least there wasn't anger in it.

"Sheriff," Derek replied politely.

The man smiled. "I hear congratulations are in order."

What? "...sir?"

He looked amused. "Let me guess: you thought I was going to blame _you_ for my son being a stubborn, reckless idiot?"

Derek frowned. Actually, he'd thought the Sheriff was going to blame him for all the things that _Stiles_ blamed him for.

The Sheriff smiled. "Look, son, the way Stiles tells it, you were put in a bunch of shitty situations, and you did your best to help people anyway. Ninety percent of the trouble Stiles got into was his own damned fault for sticking his nose into other people's business."

What? "Uh, you did...arrest me, sir. Twice." Surely he hadn't forgotten?"

Stilinski shrugged. "And you were released, both times, because you were innocent. Not for the reason I thought, but you were." He scrubbed at his chin with a hand. "Son, if I treated everyone who'd ever been arrested like a criminal, I'd be a shitty Sheriff. It's 'innocent until proven guilty', not the other way around."

 

Derek was trying very hard not to give away his shock. "...Are you sure Stiles told you everything?"

"We didn't have time for _that_ ," the man replied. "But he told me the important things. I'm sure I'll hear the rest eventually..."

Derek officially did not understand this conversation.

"...because you kids are going to keep me in the loop, is that clear?" Derek nodded, frowning in confusion. "It's my job to protect this town, and before you tell me I'm not equipped to deal with...the sort of things you've been dealing with, at the very least I need to know when I'm supposed to be avoiding something, and when you're on the job."

This was...a good thing. The Sheriff's support, but not interference. Better than he'd hoped. "Yes, sir."

The man clapped him on the shoulder. "Call me John. I'll leave you kids to it. And let me know if you need help."

'John' turned and jogged down the front steps, let Stiles and Scott out of the backseat, said goodbye to them, and drove away.

 

"Uh...that went well?" Stiles said. "He's been...surprisingly awesome about the whole thing, actually."

"Dude," said Scott, "your dad's always awesome."

Derek shook his head and went back inside.

\--------

When he heard Boyd's parents car approaching, shortly after Amy left, he went outside to meet them, leaving Arian with Stiles. (It was always the two of them, unless Isaac was out: Erica couldn't legally drive because of the epilepsy, Lydia always travelled with Jackson, and they still weren't comfortable with Allison).

"Hey Derek," said Erica as she got out. "Is something wrong?" She and Boyd were unsurprisingly apprehensive.

"Everything's fine," he said. "Walk with me." This conversation was going to be awkward enough without eavesdroppers.

They followed him silently into the woods. When he got far enough from the house that Scott and Isaac wouldn't hear unless they were really trying, he stopped. "Laura always used to complain that female werewolves had two 'times of the month', and they couldn't even take a pill like humans did to get rid of one."

"Um...why are you telling us this?" Erica asked hesitantly, Boyd worried, but steady, beside her.

"Do you want kids?" Derek asked bluntly.

Boyd was surprised, but otherwise didn't react. Erica recoiled. "No! I...oh my god, is this 'the talk'? Derek, trust me, I've already got this from my parents."

He shook his head. "They weren't werewolves."

She frowned. "It makes a difference?"

Boyd squeezed her hand, and she looked at him. "Drugs don't work on werewolves, Erica."

She nodded, still confused.

Derek frowned. " _Contraceptive_ drugs don't work on werewolves," he explained. "Not the pill, not the morning after pill, not IUDs, not implants. Abortions are dangerous and difficult, although Deaton does know how. If you don't want kids, you need to use a condom, use a diaphragm, or take your chances."

"This..." Erica shook her head. "Why are you telling us this now? We've been, uh," she blushed, "having sex for ages."

He sighed. "I forgot. Amy...reminded me." Boyd's expression cleared up. "We're lucky you've been careful, and if something had gone wrong, it would have been my fault."

"Uh, no, it would have been our fault for having underage sex without a condom," Erica corrected him. "Which we haven't, so...can we drop the topic?"

Derek smirked. "Are you sure? Because I'm sure there are other things about werewolf reproduction I could tell you..."

Erica shoved him, and Boyd laughed. "Derek, no! Oh my god, I am not Stiles! There is such a thing as too much information for normal people!"

Derek mock growled, and lunged at her. She skipped aside, then started running back towards the house. Boyd and Derek ran too, delighting in the ease and the play of the chase.

\---------

"...we had reservations! Couldn't this have waited until the weekend?" Lydia was complaining as they got back.

Derek let Erica and Boyd go into the room ahead of him. "Considering that we're having the adoption ceremony this weekend," he answered her as he came in, "I thought you'd like some advance notice."

The phrase ‘you could have heard a pin drop’ had always been utterly meaningless for Derek, but it very effectively described the sudden silence that fell over the room. A silence which was broken rather abruptly by Arian, who waved the rattle she was holding and squealed, trying to get someone’s attention. Derek walked over and picked her up, which seemed to break the moment.

“You’re adopting _Arian_?”

“You should have talked to us first!”

“How on earth are you going to look after a baby?”

“A ceremony? On Saturday?”

Derek waited, shifting bits of his face to amuse Arian. It didn’t take long for someone – Boyd, in fact - to realise that Stiles, for once, wasn’t talking.

“When did Stiles find out?” he asked, and everyone turned to stare.

“About the offer, or that Derek had said yes?” asked Stiles. Wilting a little under Lydia’s glare, he raised his hands in surrender. “Saturday, after the meeting, and last night, respectively.”

“Is that why you’ve been asking everyone about kids this week?” Allison asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yep. Derek asked me to do some research, figure out if it was feasible for him to take Arian in…did you know that if a kid werewolf shifts before they lose their milk teeth, their beta form has milk teeth too? Even if they end up Alpha for some insane reason, they can’t actually bite anyone until they’re, like, twelve. Also! Most born werewolves can’t shift from birth, and when they do start to shift, it’s like your voice breaking – all awkward and in bits and at semi-random times. The healing’s hit and miss too, particularly with small stuff.”

“Do we get a say in this?” Jackson asked Derek, clearly uninterested in Stiles’ rambling.

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think this is?”

Isaac frowned. “You telling us you’re adopting her?”

Derek sighed. “This is me telling you I _plan_ to adopt her, and giving you an opportunity to raise your concerns before I do, with Amy out of the house.” He sat down, Arian cradled in his arms.

“Oh,” said Isaac.

 

“Are you going to make us babysit?” Jackson demanded.

“No.”

“Are we _allowed_ to babysit?” Isaac asked hopefully.

“Once you know how.”

“What if something attacks us?” Allison wanted to know.

“She’ll be guarded by a human and a wolf whenever there’s a threat, and we’re going to build a panic room, which Deaton and Stiles will ward.”

“What’s her place in the pack?” Lydia asked, tapping a finger against her lips. “How are we meant to interact with her?”

“She’ll be my…daughter.” Gealach, that was strange to say. He was going to have a daughter. He was going to be a father. “You can treat her like a sibling, or a cousin, or a niece, as long as you treat her like pack. Rank wise…while she’s young, she needs to listen to you, so everyone in the pack outranks her. When she’s older…we’ll see what happens.”

“What if you get hurt?” It was Erica who asked, but Isaac and Boyd looked equally worried about the answer.

“Then I hope all of you will help look after her, but I’ll talk to Ms McCall and Sheriff Stilinski about raising her should none of you be ready for the responsibility.”

“Wait, the Sheriff?” Allison looked concerned. “I thought Stiles didn’t want him to know.”

“He was told today,” Derek explained. “And having more actual adults around to help with Arian was part of the reason.”

“Is Amy going to be involved?” asked Scott.

“We haven’t talked about it much,” Derek said, “but as I understand it, she’ll go home straight after the adoption. We’ll probably keep in touch by email, but Arian will see her rarely, if at all.”

Jackson was definitely unhappy about that, although he didn’t say so aloud. Lydia leaned into him, and asked her own question. “What’s the adoption ceremony like?”

 

Derek sighed. “I haven’t taught you much about werewolf culture…I’ve been focused on the immediate problems of physical and emotional control.” He hadn’t really thought about it until this week. But seeing Amy’s habitual use of, well, wolf etiquette had reminded him of all the things he’d learnt as a child, the ‘company manners’ they’d used when other wolves were visiting. He didn’t want that to be lost. “Now that things have calmed down, I can teach you. The adoption ceremony is based on the ceremony for accepting a wolf into the pack.”

Scott frowned. “But, there was never any ceremony with me…?”

“You were…unusual.” He groped for words, but before he could string them together, Stiles interrupted.

“I know this one, actually.” No-one was surprised. “Pack’s analogous to family, right? Well, when a wolf is born into the pack, there’s namings and stuff, but it doesn’t need to be accepted. And by biting someone, an Alpha indicates that acceptance anyway, it’s like being ‘born’ into the pack. The ritual’s only used when a wolf _changes_ packs, and if they decide to do that, they usually know all the protocols.”

Derek picked up the thread of the explanation. “At first, everything was chaotic. Then, you were refusing to be involved. You didn’t really join the pack until Boyd and Erica came back, and I didn’t want to push the issue by asking you to go through a werewolf ritual you’d never heard of.” Scott’s involvement had always been tentative, conditional. Derek had…it had been like that moment in stories, where the pining teenager won’t ask for more for fear of losing friendship. He _wanted_ Scott to be in his pack. Leaving the ties loose, uncertain, was better than having none at all.

“What about humans?” Lydia asked. “Is there an equivalent ritual for them?”

Derek frowned. “Usually, humans are either born or mated into the pack. There isn’t a need for an extra ritual.”

Isaac looked confused. “But…Stiles?”

“Stiles is…almost unique. He’s got the potential to be an emissary,” Stiles made a surprised sound. Had he not put it together? “But they’re usually more distant, like family friends. He got involved because of his connection to Scott,” cue predictable recoil by both of them, “but they’re brothers, not mates. He hasn’t asked for the bite, and I’m not planning on offering unless he does.” He hated the way Peter had ‘offered’ Stiles the bite, hated it almost as much as the way he’d bitten Scott and Lydia without consent, and he refused to remind Stiles of that moment.

“He is pack, though, right?” asked Erica.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course he is. He’s been pack since almost as long as you have.” Wasn’t it obvious? Except, across the room, Stiles’ eyes were widening, his mouth dropping open, shock blossoming in his scent. He didn’t know? “Stiles has been acting like pack for months, so we instinctively recognise him as pack, even if it’s completely unconventional.”

 

“Back to the original question…” Lydia said, raising an eyebrow delicately.

“We go to a key location in our territory; the wolves shift; the new werewolf is released or declares independence from their old pack; the alpha offers them a place in the pack in exchange for their loyalty; they symbolically submit to the alpha; they are greeted by the rest of the pack.

In an adoption ceremony, after the submission to the alpha, the old parent or guardian gives up their claim to the child and the new parent swears to raise, care for, and love the child to the best of their ability. Usually the alpha officiates; since I’ll be adopting Arian, Deaton will manage that part of the ritual. Moonlight is good, but if there’s an option, a waxing moon is preferred to full or waning, and the ritual is usually held at sunset, not at night.” There were all sorts of subtleties he was ignoring, and he’d have to consult with Deaton to confirm the details, but he remembered this much.

The pack looked intrigued. Well, Jackson was wearing his usual façade of boredom, and Scott looked confused, but the rest of them looked intrigued.

“Do we need to wear anything special?” Lydia asked. “Should I be planning decorations?”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “With the earth and the sky and the moon to witness, why would we need decorations? And you can dress nice, if you like, but we’ll be out in the preserve.” No-one wore a tux to a pack ritual. They didn’t wear sweats, but formal wear was excessive. “Any planning will be between me, Amy, and Deaton. You just need to be here.”

\--------

Once they were gone, and he’d handed Arian over to Amy, he drove to Peter's apartment. He had refused to live in the rebuilt Hale House, saying he needed his own space. Derek didn’t like it, but he hadn’t liked the idea of living with him much better.

“Derek,” Peter smiled, cat-like, when he saw Derek walk in the door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“There’s a pack adoption ceremony on Saturday. You should be there.” There was a strange sense of triple-vision whenever he looked at Peter now – the rogue alpha and his uncle, each like a mirage overlaid on the semi-stranger half in and half out of his pack.

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Who on earth is adopting? And adopting whom?”

Derek had very deliberately kept Amy and Arian secret from Peter so far – the fact that it hadn’t been difficult was a testament to just how far Peter had drifted from his pack. “An omega from down south arrived in our territory on Friday, looking for a pack to adopt her three-month old daughter. I’ve agreed to do it.”

Peter smirked. “Well, well, well, Derek’s turned paternal! Do I get to meet the newest of the Hales before Saturday?” Derek flinched. He hadn’t actually thought of that. She’d be a Hale now, as true as blood.

He should probably give Amy a chance to meet Peter before she lost the option to object. He shrugged, trying to look casual. “If you come by the house, I’m sure you’ll be introduced.” He turned to leave.

“I’ll do that, then,” Peter drawled. “Have a good night, Derek.”

 _Well_ , he thought, as he started up the car, _there's no turning back now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, I was halfway through my description of the adoption ceremony before I realised I'd forgotten about Peter? That would have been awkward. 'Gealach', by the way, means 'moon' in Irish. I'll be drawing on a whole lot of Irish and Welsh culture and folklore in this thing, which should be fun.
> 
> A number of you wanted to see the big reveal to the Sheriff. Unfortunately, Derek wasn't there, so it doesn't fit in _this_ fic, but I've created a second work in the 'Baby Hale' series called 'Where the Heart Is: Baby Hale Bonus Chapters' for scenes from other perspectives, and you can read the Sheriff's initial reaction there. 
> 
> Also, oh my god, a hundred kudos already! Thank you so much! I love hearing your feedback, so let me know what you think.


	6. Under the Eye of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek adopts Arian. It's a ritual the Hale pack hasn't seen in years.

The moon was low in the sky when they gathered at the stump of the nemeton, and the shadows were long. The pack arrayed themselves behind Derek in the east, with Amy, holding Arian, in the west, and Deaton to the north. On the south side of the tree, Ms McCall, Allison, and Sheriff Stilinski were watching - not part of the ritual, but present. It felt like rebirth, for them all to be there: not his birth family, but family nonetheless.

"When the first werewolf was made, she was lonely, and she sought out a pack to comfort and aid her," Derek began, and heard, in memory, his mother saying those same words. "So do we all seek a pack, to run with under the eye of the moon, and to rest with in the shadows of the night. Arian Jones, you seek to join the Hale pack. Does any other pack hold claim over you?"

Amy stepped forward. "I am Amy, mother of Arian, and I speak on her behalf. She has no pack to claim her."

Derek nodded. "Then do you swear your loyalty and support to the Hale pack, and to me as its Alpha?"

"She swears her support and loyalty to you and the pack.." As Derek came closer, Amy lifted Arian so she could see him, then guided her head to avert her gaze.

"Then I offer her to her in turn, as Alpha of the Hale pack, our loyalty and support."

 

Next, Deaton stepped forward. "Amy Jones, you have asked Derek Hale to adopt your daughter Arian. Derek, are you still willing?"

This was it. His last chance to turn back. His last chance to save her from the inevitable losses that came with being close to him. "I am willing," he said.

"Derek Hale, what would you offer to Arian as her father?"

This was the only unscripted part of the ritual. He had spent hours trying to think of anything worthwhile that he had to give. "I offer her a place in the Hale pack, as its Alpha. I offer her protection from harm." He wished he could believe it, that he would be able to protect her from everything. "I offer her a home in my territory. I..." he almost choked on the words, "...I offer her the promise of my love." Not yet, not yet, but it would come so easily.

"Amy Jones, Derek has offered to Arian these things. So that she may have them, do you renounce your claim to her?"

"I renounce my claim." She passed Arian to Deaton, and he turned to Derek again.

"Derek Hale, do you claim Arian as your daughter, to raise and to love?"

"I claim Arian as my daughter, as true as my blood."

Deaton passed Arian to Derek. "Then I declare it to be so."

 

Derek turned to face the pack. "Come greet my daughter," (he had a _daughter_ ) "and your new pack-mate."

Scott came forward first, taking Arian eagerly and confidently, though his scenting was awkward and clumsy.

He passed her to Stiles, who didn't scent her, but held her close for a minute and murmured softly, "I guess I'm Uncle Stiles now, cariad. Or just Stiles, if you like that better. You can call me whatever you like, you know? Except my real name, don't call me that."

Isaac started to whine, and Stiles looked up to see the barely-masked impatience on the betas face, and grinned. "I'm hogging you, am I? Here, come and meet Isaac."

Isaac held her like the infinitely precious and fragile creature she was, staring at her with all the joy of a beaming smile compressed into a tiny grin.

Peter took her then (of all of them, Isaac seemed to fear him least). His face was blank, but his scent was full of turmoil as he carefully, almost perfunctorily, scented her, greeted her, and gave her to Erica.

Erica held her gingerly - she'd told Stiles (and Stiles had told Derek) that she had never held a baby, or even really interacted with little kids, since she was diagnosed with epilepsy. But she watched Arian avidly as she rested in Boyd's arms, stroking a finger softly down her face.

Jackson let Boyd hold her for almost two minutes, and when she was given to him, scented her quickly, muttered "You're wanted here, okay?", and passed her to Lydia.

Lydia looked for Derek almost as soon as she got Arian, but said a soft hello before giving her back.

Derek held her against his shoulder, tucking his face into her neck. Her scent was strongest there, and mixed with the scents of his pack. She smelled like _his_. The words caught in his throat at the thought of saying them in front of pack and not-pack, but he would not fail her so soon. "Arian," he said, soft and low, "I'm sorry for the mistakes I'm going to make, I'm sorry for everything I'll get wrong...but I promise I will always try my best for you." He tilted her back so he could see her face and kissed her forehead. "I will try so hard for you, daughter of mine."

He returned to his place at the head of the pack, and nodded to Deaton.

"We have gathered here," the man said, "under the eye of the moon, to witness the joining of Arian Jones and the Hale pack, and the adoption of Arian by Alpha Derek Hale of the Hale pack. What say you?"

It was Peter who began the greeting howl. Derek joined him, and the others followed his lead. Stiles was standing silently, awkwardly; Lydia stood equally silently, though utterly poised. The non-pack humans in the south watched, fascinated, and Amy looked on almost hungrily. Deaton was inscrutable, as usual.

 

There was an awkward silence when the howl ended, broken at last by Peter. "If that's all, nephew, I'll take my leave."

"That's it?" asked Scott.

Derek ignored Scott's question (wasn't it obvious), and nodded at Peter. "Thank you for coming."

Peter's departure seemed to act as a signal: the group broke out of their formation and began chatting, all at once. Allison went to Scott, but Ms McCall and the Sheriff came over to Derek.

"Is it okay for me to hold her?" Ms McCall asked.

It...it was hard for him to agree. These two were the parents of his pack-mates, but they weren't quite pack, and Arian was so vulnerable, and only just his, but he _wanted_ them in her life, gaelach, it wasn't as if he had any grandparents to offer her...

"Yes," he said gruffly, and placed her gently in Ms McCall's arms.

She automatically started to rock the baby, and her hold was skilled and sure. Something in Derek eased to see it. Arian was safe with her. "She's beautiful," Ms McCall said.

"May I..." the Sheriff asked, uncertain. It was harder, but Derek agreed again. This man was unknown, but Stiles loved him, and trusted him, and thought he was the perfect father, and Derek trusted Stiles. More or less. Usually. The Sheriff took a little while to adjust to Arian's weight in his arms. He probably hadn't held a baby in a long time. But his scent was all happiness and love, and he beamed at her, and Derek couldn't begrudge him the minute of Arian's time. Or, well, he did, but he knew he shouldn't, so he pushed the feeling down.

Stiles wandered over, and just as Derek was getting tense, he spoke up. "Uh, Dad? Can you give Derek his baby back so we can go home? Or at least the Hale House? 'Cause it's, like, eight o'clock at night, and it's at least a half hour walk, and it's only going to get darker from here."

There was food at the house, Derek knew. Stiles had swept his way in this morning, a storm of noise and motion, and proceeded to bake and fry and roast, and whatever else it was he did, until there was food for the whole pack, and then some. He spoke up. "We're going back to the Hale House. One wolf per human so they don't trip on things: Jackson and Lydia, Scott and Allison, Isaac and Ms McCall, Boyd and Deaton," Shit, either he walked with the Sheriff or Erica would. Well, Alpha's privilege. He wasn't getting grilled tonight, "Erica with Sheriff Stilinski. Stiles, stick with me." He turned to Amy as the kids started back towards the house. She had hung back when the ceremony ended, her part done, her ties cut. "Amy, would you like to walk with me and Stiles?" And Arian, he didn't say.

She smiled at him, and the three (four) of them began their journey home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience everyone! Unfortunately, it looks like I'll be updating on something closer to a fortnightly schedule for the next few months - semester's just started, so between that and 'It's Not Easy', I've got a whole bunch of writing to fit into my week. I'll update as often as I can though.
> 
> This one's a bit of a short chapter. I kind of wanted to have more of Derek freaking out before the ceremony itself, but it didn't flow well. I'm expecting that the next thing I post will be a bonus chapter (look for them in my fic 'Where the Heart Is') from Amy's perspective as she leaves Beacon Hills. After this point we probably won't see her much, if at all.
> 
> Thank you for your enthusiastic support - it's kind of mind-boggling that I've passed 150 kudos on this one already - and I look forward to reading your comments.


	7. Denning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek takes a few days to get used to Arian. It's not exactly easy, but he's getting there.

He'd managed to get a week's paternity leave (unpaid, but he wasn't really surprised), so once Amy left, Derek more or less withdrew from the world. He suggested to Isaac (read: ordered) that he stay with the rest of the pack for a few days while Derek figured out how to look after Arian. Honestly, he just wanted to keep her to himself for a while.

When Nathan was born, his mother had withdrawn completely from the pack for three days. She'd only started to let them in gradually: first his dad, then Derek and his siblings, then her own siblings, then their mates and children and the rest of the pack. She hadn't taken Nathan out of the house for almost two weeks. Derek thought maybe he understood why, now. It wasn't like Arian hadn't _already_ been exposed to the pack and the outside world, but...she hadn't been _his_ then. It hadn't been _his_ job to keep her safe, and well, and happy, and now that it was, she seemed like glass in his arms, and the world seemed full of hard edges, and what if he failed her? Better to keep her close, and safe, and his. Better to let his scent soak into her, and hers into him. Better to keep to the den.

He couldn't, though. Not for long. Soon enough, he would have to go back to work, and leave her to _someone else's_ care. Soon enough, he would have to pace the borders, to make sure she would be safe, and he'd have to leave her behind. Soon enough, he would have to let the pack know her, and hold her, and mind her. All too soon, he thought.

\--------

She wouldn't stop _crying_. He'd fed her an hour ago, and burped her, and her diaper was clean. Why was she crying? He cupped her cheek and tried to drain pain, just in case, but it didn't work. He was relieved, of course he was, but if she wasn't in pain, and she wasn't hungry, and she wasn't messy, _what could he do_?

As he paced around the room in frustration, he spotted the sheaf of papers Stiles had given him before the adoption. Stiles! Stiles might know. At the very least, asking him was _something_ for Derek to do. He tucked Arian into her basket and ran downstairs, where her crying was muffled, dialing as he went.

"Derek? What's wrong?"

"Arian," he said shortly, and Stiles gasped.

"Shit, is she okay? Is she hurt? Do you need me to come over?" Fuck. He should have put that differently.

"She's not hurt." He knew that, at least. He'd tested that. "I checked. But she won't stop _crying_." His tone was almost plaintive, but after more than half an hour of Arian's distress, he didn't care.

Stiles breathed out heavily. "Thank...you think you could have said that first, maybe? I nearly had a heart attack."

"Stiles." _Please_ take this seriously. Just...he wasn't coping.

"Right. Uh...what have you tried? Because there's no point me giving you advice without knowing what's going on, that's be like- "

"Feeding her, burping her, changing her, taking pain away."

"She was in pain?"

"No. I tried just in case."

"Okay, uh...where's the - oh! Here it is! I knew this list would come in handy, okay, seven causes of crying...she's not in pain, she's not hungry, she's too young for frustration or boredom....so, overstimulation, discomfort, or loneliness. Probably not discomfort, and knowing your house, probably not...wait a second, how come I can't hear her?"

Derek frowned. "I left her in my room when I called you. It's hard enough having a straightforward conversation with you without a crying baby in the background." Was that harsh? Maybe that was harsh. It was hard to tell people's reactions over the phone.

Stiles sighed loudly. "Derek, she's probably lonely. Babies, like...the cardinal rule of babies is that you can never cuddle them too much, _and_ she's basically just lost her mom, so even if she isn't freaking out on you because she's too young to be weird about strangers, she's probably unhappy about that...she needs you _there_."

Oh, gealach. "If she's missing Amy, can I even do anything?"

"I asked Amy to soak a couple blankets and a big sweatshirt I got in her scent, they're in the plastic crate labelled 'Amy' in the room she was staying in...go wrap yourself or Arian in one of those and hold her for a while, okay?" Why had Stiles done that? Had he known this would happen? Had Amy known this would happen? Actually, now that he thought about it...he was a fucking idiot and of _course_ this was going to happen. Fuck, he was so unprepared for this. "You can pace, or lie on your back with her on your chest, or sing, or put her in a baby sling so you can use your hands, but she needs to be near you. Oh, and maybe try the rumbling thing? She liked the rumbling thing."

"Okay." He was a complete and utter failure of an idiot for not thinking of that - he _of all people_ knew about losing family, and needing reminders of them, and needing scent and touch for comfort - not that he really _got_ tactile comfort these days, but he needed it. Why the fuck didn't he think of that?

"Are you...should I stay on the line, or...?"

"It's fine." He was going to learn how to do this on his own. He couldn't...just because Stiles had always been there so far...he needed to know he could do it himself.

"...Right. Okay. Uh, call me if you need me, I guess?"

"Okay."

"And, like, don't worry about the time, it's summer holidays, I can catch up on sleep whenever, it's not like I sleep much anyway..." Derek winced. He knew about Stiles' nightmares, his sleepless nights. Not all of them, but he ran patrols when he couldn't sleep, and he'd gone past Stiles' house in the dead of night often enough to guess.

"...Thanks." Derek hung up before Stiles could start tripping over his own tongue again. Okay. Find blankets with Amy's scent; wrap Arian in them; hug Arian. And if she kept crying, well, Derek knew how that felt, too.

\--------

"...She was older than you, but younger than me, and she was alone." Arian watched him, eyes wide, as he dragged story after story from the depths of his childhood memories. Stories of werewolves and witches, alphas and omegas, Hale family histories, all mixed in with fairy-tales he knew humans told. He couldn't tell them well, anymore. He'd forgotten things. How many wolves in the first alpha's pack? Was the moon waxing or waning when the first werewolf was made? What did the witch promise in exchange for a kiss? Arian didn't care, but it bothered him.

He'd finally figured out the baby sling. He could use both hands, now, and still hold her close. It was dark grey, simple and plain. His mother used to carry Nathan in one that was rainbow coloured, tie-died and patchwork. "You'll never notice a stain," she used to say. 

"She found herself a new territory, that wolves did not want because there were too many humans." He cupped Arian's head in his hand, and rubbed his cheek across her hair. It had been a full day, now, and though she still clung to Amy's scent, she was starting to smell like him. He wasn't close with the pack in the way he was learning to be with her. Soon she'd smell more like him, like family, than they did. It was...it was painful, to have someone smelling like family. She made a dissatisfied noise when his stubble rasped against her skin. He would have to shave more often.

"It is hard to hunt for a wolf alone..."

\-------

"Hey Sourwolf!" Stiles was outside. Why was he outside? Derek had made it very clear to the pack that he didn't want anyone near the house until Wednesday. "Dude, I'm not coming in because chances are you'll get all fang-y at me, so if you want groceries and clean diapers, you'd better get out here!"

Oh. That...was actually a good idea. He took a last look at Arian, sleeping in her basket, and went to the door. Stiles, true to his word, was waiting on the porch. "Stiles," he greeted.

"So, I bought cans of soup from that brand you like so you can microwave some meals, and some bread rolls for sandwiches. There's a thing of formula in the brand Amy was using - I think there are better brands out there, did you want to look into that? - and some apple sauce and stuff for if you want to start weaning her. It'll keep, so you don't have to get around to it tomorrow or anything, but she's old enough that you could try if you wanted. There's a bunch of packs of diapers, and wipes, and stuff for nappy rash, and some laundry detergent, because Dad said you go through way more laundry loads with a baby than you'd think possible. And there's some other stuff, but most things you stocked up on last week. I think that should be everything, is that everything?"

Stiles was bouncing on the balls of his feet, swinging his arms back and forward. He smelled...nervous? Excited. Happy? It was hard to tell with Stiles.

"I think you forgot the kitchen sink," Derek said, raising an eyebrow and smirking.

Stiles pointed finger-guns at him. "Funny. You are a funny guy."

He had to say, he'd missed adult (well, what passed for adult around here) conversation. "How is everyone?"

"Eh." Stiles shrugged. "Scott and Allison have been spending a lot of time together, when Allison isn't training and Scott isn't working at Deaton's. Otherwise, Scott mostly plays video games with me and Isaac. Now that Dad knows, we invited Isaac to stay with us for a while so Ms McCall can have a break. I think Dad makes him nervous. But he seems okay? He's quiet. He was working at the diner for half of yesterday, then he disappeared - I think he was hanging out with Boyd and Erica? Lydia's swearing about Old Irish, apparently mutations are awful?, and she's waiting to hear back on a bunch of library cards so we can have a better library. Last I heard, Jackson was hanging out with Danny, I think. There's supposed to be a party this weekend that half the pack's planning to go to." He shrugged again. "Business as usual. No idea about Peter, though, and I'm not going to go looking for him, either."

A part of Derek relaxed at the reassurance that his pack was safe and well. "The border runs?"

"I caught Isaac leaving for his yesterday, and prodded Scott to do his this morning. Nothing to report, as far as I know." That was good. If he couldn't do them himself, it was good that Stiles was making sure. "We still on track for the pack coming over on Wednesday?"

Derek thought about it. He wanted to keep Arian to herself, to be _sure_ that no-one else could get near her to hurt her, but the instinct wasn't too overwhelming. He'd been talking to Stiles on his porch for five minutes already, for god's sake. And Arian would be safer with a pack. Probably. He hoped. "Yes."

"Uh...you don't have to say yes, but....could Dad and Ms McCall and Allison come?" Derek's shoulders hunched and his fingers flexed. He didn't want an Argent so close to her, even Allison. Allison had turned on them before. "Okaaay...by the end of the week, though? Because it's going to be awkward looking after her when you go back to work if you don't want her near either of the responsible adults, and I honestly think Arian's going to do more to attach Allison to the pack than anything but Scott. It's difficult to hate werewolves as a species when there's an adorable baby right in front of you."

It wasn't a bad point, and at least Stiles had thought about Allison being a hunter. "If Wednesday goes well, then they can join us on Friday."

Stiles grinned and nodded. "Awesome! Okay, cool, I'll let everyone know. You good here?" He threw the question back over his shoulder as he turned to leave.

Was he? Arian was sleeping, and he knew how to feed her and keep her clean, and he'd had moderate success soothing her and keeping her entertained. She wasn't hurt, and thought that maybe she wouldn't be, that he could make this work. "I'm good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait...I got distracted by semester, and by a werewolf fairytale. You can see a few lines of it in the third section of this chapter - I'll probably post the full thing in 'Where the Heart Is' in a week or so, it's the story of how the first werewolf was made.
> 
> I think this just about wraps up the adoption plot-arc and I can skip ahead a bit. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, but the plan is to hop-skip-and-jump my way all the way up to Arian's first birthday, which is about eight months from now, within the fic. If you have anything you'd like to see, let me know in the comments! I always love to hear your thoughts.


	8. Announcement

Hi guys,

I've been a bit busier than I thought I would be, and it looks like this fic is going to have to go on hiatus. Because of how the storyline has worked out so far, I've decided to call this one - about the adoption process - complete, and leave open the possibility of writing sequels, dealing with things like the babysitting routine once school gets started up again, dealing with potential threats, the revelation to Stiles and everyone else that Stiles _is_ high status in the pack, Christmas with the pack, and Arian's first birthday. These are all things I'd like to write, but I can't do it at the moment.

I hope you liked what there is so far, and sorry that there can't be more right now,

seekeronthepath


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